Love is an incurable sickness
by 42Lia
Summary: England is sick. And the last thing he wants to see is the grinning Spaniard at his door ... well, aside the fact that Antonio isn't grinning at all. Is the idiot sick too? Must be. Why else would he show up and ... and ... be so nice to him? But why has Antonio ... lost his smile?
1. Visiting England

**Visiting England**

It was a wet rainy day in London with strong winds and a dark, grey, cloudy sky. It was as if the weather itself matched his mood. He always had had a moody personality but Antonio didn't mind. He liked that side of him. Always unpredictable and he liked seeing all of his different faces, some of them he rarely showed others. Today, the weather was pouring and screaming … he was probably in a very foul mood. Well, it's understandable and that's why Spain is here, in a taxi, driving towards his house. Hopefully he would manage to cheer him up.

Once he was in front of the door, Antonio had to wait a while before being answered. When the door finally opened, a very sick, coughing, with a paler skin than usual and dark stains under his jade eyes, Arthur glared at him. He was indeed in a foul mood and it wasn't broken by the bright, cheerful smile Antonio sent him. In fact, it got worse.

"What do you want? How did you get here? No, scratch that! Just what the bloody hell are you doing here?" Arthur asked in raspy voice barely audible. He couldn't even scream at him … he really was sick. Antonio's smile wavered at the sound of Arthur's sick voice.

"You don't look so well mi amigo! Francis told me you were sick so I came to visit!"

"How did …? I only phoned Francis about my illness just last night! And it's 7am in the morning! How did you …? Never mind! (coughs) I don't even want to know! Just come in, you'll get sick too if you stay out in that rain."

Antonio walked inside and eyed his host inquisitively. Arthur was wearing his pyjamas covered by a thick woollen jumper and carried a blanket on his shoulders as he walked or more like zigzagged to the kitchen, coughing. Antonio rushed after him, worried he might fall but Arthur somehow managed to make it to the kitchen counter safe and sound … sort of. He started boiling a kettle and shifted his pale face to look at his Spanish guest. He looked so pale, almost ghostly. He was tired and strained and dark stains bordered his eyes, eyes that had lost their usual spark and irony and were now just a dull, clouded green.

"What can I offer you?" Arthur asked, forcing his voice up but he barely managed a loud whisper.

"Nothing! I'm fine!" Antonio answered hurriedly, a bit _too hurriedly_.

Arthur shrugged, too sick to think anything of it. He looked in a cupboard and got out his tea and a box of medicine. He gulped in a pill with a glass of water and was now taking his sugar and milk out on the counter.

"Shouldn't you go to bed and rest?" Antonio wandered aloud. His voice was plain and straight but it lacked its usual teasing it had when talking to Arthur.

"I need something warm to drink. I was asleep before you came but …"

"Sorry."

Arthur shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. I haven't been sleeping well at all since last night. Damn …"

Arthur dropped his mug and grabbed his head in his hands. The mug shattered on the floor but neither of them cared. Antonio rushed to Arthur's side who was keeping his balance by holding onto the counter table with one hand, the other holding his head. His face showed pain and agony. Antonio felt powerless. He didn't know what to do.

"Arthur?"

"I'm … fine … just give me a minute …" Arthur panted, out of breath. What was wrong with him? Antonio was seriously worried. Without thinking he lifted the blond onto his shoulder and carried him up to his room. He knew were his room was since last time he came with Francis and Gilbert. He wanted to put Arthur to rest in his bed but the Englishman didn't agree to the means he used.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put me down this instant!" Arthur tried to shout but it just sounded like a small, squeaking noise. It made Antonio wish the man had screamed.

"I'm taking you to bed! You're sick. In your condition, you need to sleep. No arguing!" Antonio's tone of voice was firm and strong. It surprised England and shut him up for a minute, wandering why the Spaniard sounded different from usual. Was he actually worried about him? Arthur shook his head and shrugged. He really didn't have the strength to bother with that.

"Fine … do what you want …"

Antonio felt Arthur's body relax on his shoulder and when he laid him in bed, the man was already fast asleep. Antonio stared at his face for … god knows how long! He looked so weak and fragile … but somehow … somehow, he still had that aura of strength surrounding the island nation. It was faint and barely noticeable due to his sick condition but it was still there. His ghostly – looking face still remained beautiful despite the effects of the illness. He almost looked like he was dead and could have fooled Antonio if not for his uneven breathing. Antonio ran his hand in Arthur's golden locks and then gently descended down to caress his face. He was sweating and despite its cold, icy aspect, his face was burning hot, like on fire. Antonio leaned forward towards the sleeping man's face. He looked at him and waited. What was he waiting? Even he didn't know. He just stayed there, their faces inches apart. He noticed Arthur's pink lips were unusually dry and his breathing was fast and irregular. He waited. Then pulled back with a sigh and went downstairs. When Arthur wakes up, he'll want some tea.


	2. A dash of milk, 3 sugars and cinamon

**One dash of milk and three sugars with a touch of cinnamon**

One dash of milk and three sugars with a touch of cinnamon. Antonio knew this formula by heart. He had watched Arthur make his tea so many times. At every world conference meeting, he would watch Arthur make himself his tea and some for other countries (mostly Japan, Hong Kong and sometimes China or India). He always noticed which was his from the unusual amount of sugar. It surprised him but after further investiga … erm, coincidental observations, Antonio had noticed that Arthur liked sweet things. You wouldn't guess from his constant bitter tone. He also liked spices a lot. Hence the cinnamon. One dash of milk and three sugars with a touch of cinnamon.

Antonio was humming to himself his little formula when he heard some shuffling sounds growing nearer to the kitchen. He looked up and saw Arthur, wrapped up in his cosy blanket. He really looked adorable like that … well, apart that he was sick and all.

Arthur eyed the Spaniard in his kitchen suspiciously, especially since he was holding his kettle. Antonio brought Arthur to the living room and sat him down comfortably in his settee despite all the arguing from his host which Antonio ignored. He then brought him a new mug of warm tea. Arthur had also noticed that the broken mug on the kitchen floor was gone. Had Antonio cleaned it?

"Drink up. It'll get cold." Antonio urged him with an unusual eager look in his olive green eyes. Arthur hesitated. Maybe he was poisoning him? Then he shrugged. He was already sick as hell that there was no need for poisoning anymore. He took a shy sip expecting the worst but was gladly surprised. This tea was … exactly the way he made it himself! Neither Japan or Hong Kong and not even his brothers knew him that well as to put the touch of cinnamon. And it had just enough sweetness to it the way England liked it. Arthur shot a surprised look at his guest who was watching him expectantly.

"How … is it?" Antonio dared asking.

"It's … nice. Surprisingly nice."

Antonio sighed in relief and he kept gazing at Arthur who was savouring the soft warmth of his drink. Arthur was really intrigued.

"Did you … put some cinnamon in the tea?"

"Si. You don't like it?"

"I do. I was just surprised. I didn't think you'd come up with such an idea … actually, I didn't think you knew how to make tea."

"I learned it from India … (he couldn't say that he had begged India to teach him) when I … came to visit on holiday. I … wanted to taste his spices (he wanted to beg India) and I ended up learning how to make tea (original objective). I was surprised. I thought tea was bitter and disgusting but … it can actually be quite nice. And India showed me all those different teas and spices and … Arthur?"

Arthur was staring at his friend with utter astonishment and a small smile had crept up his face. Under Antonio's confused expression, Arthur burst in a small, weak laugh punctuated with coughs.

"You went to see India and came back with knowledge on how to make tea? That is … the most unexpected thing I've heard!"

"It's not funny! You like tea too!"

"I know but … I never thought _you'd_ like it too! And you were so into it, explaining me all the different teas and spices!"

Antonio felt a bit frustrated and humiliated but he relaxed a bit. He was glad to see that Arthur could still laugh and smile. After a while, Arthur fell asleep in his seat and Antonio stayed by his side, admiring his blond host. He soon fell asleep too (his sleepless night flight was catching up on him) nuzzled next to Arthur.

Later that day, the phone rang waking up Arthur and making him grumble and curse. Antonio inwardly cursed too as he went to grab the phone.

"Angleterre? C'est moi! I was wondering how you were feeling today. I heard from Scott that you asked him to represent you in Parliament with Wales."

"Francis …"

"Qu … Antonio? Qu'est – ce que … What are you doing at Arthur's house?"

"I'm visiting."

"… Since when? You left late last night just after I told you about Angleterre and now you're at his house? Did you take the first flight there over night?"

"What if I did?"

"Mais pourquoi?" **{but why?}**

"Why not?"

He heard France muffle a laugh before answering.

"Antonio? Is there something you were hiding from me?"

"Like what?"

"Like … Oh, I don't know … Maybe that you love my little master?"

Antonio's face became deep crimson.

"W-what? Why would you think …?"

"Oh come on! Give me a better explanation for you to suddenly panic and rush to see him when I told you he was ill!"

"I …"

"How is he?"

Antonio realised the change of tone. The usual Francis would have teased him until he got him to admit but … the usual Francis was now gone and replaced by a worried Francis. He sounded honestly concerned about his 'little master' and his voice was dead serious.

"Horrible. He won't admit it but he can barely stand or talk. He's always falling asleep and seems to shiver of cold all the time despite his burning fever. Francis … what can I do? He's really sick and I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down. Is he covered well?"

"Yes … I think."

"Make sure he's warm enough. And put him a wet patch on his forehead to cool down the fever. Don't let him leave the bed and he must sleep as much as possible. Give him his medicine as prescribed by the doctor, he told me he had them. If he's hungry, give him warm food and only things that are easy to digest like a purée or a soup. He needs to drink a lot since he's probably dehydrated too. Check his temperature regularly and make sure he gets enough rest."

"O-ok. I'll try."

"Don't worry Tonio, I'm sure you'll manage! And try not to kiss him because you might get sick too!"

"Francis! I'm not …"  
"Sure, you're not! That's why you're panicking about seeing Arthur sick!"

"I …"

"Ah, I need to go! Corse has fallen asleep in the middle of the road again! Tell Arthur I called, and take care of him, s'il te plait! Merci, bye! Corse! Qu'est – ce que tu fous, bordel?!" **{… Please! Thanks, bye! Corsica! What the fuck are you doing, idiot?!} **

Antonio heard Francis hang up and then was taken aback at seeing Arthur standing behind him with a curious expression.

"Who was it?"

"Francis. He said you weren't allowed out of bed."

"I'm fine. What else did he say?"

But Antonio didn't answer and like before lifted Arthur and carried him to his bed. The entire day, Arthur tried getting out of his bed and work but each time Antonio would just carry him back to his room, ignoring his protests. Eventually, Arthur gave up and let Antonio take care of him. It was nice to have someone to spoil you from time to time. But Arthur was still wandering why Antonio was doing all this and why he always had such a serious face on. Where was that cheerful, idiotic grin he always has? Arthur was too sick to bother with details right now and just enjoyed the attention. He slept all day while Antonio cleaned his house and went shopping for food. The day passed like a snap and when Arthur woke up, it was already dark outside. He was about to get out of bed to make himself dinner but Antonio arrived with a tray of food in his hands.

"Bed!" Antonio ordered.

"But …"  
"Bed!"

Arthur sighed. Normally he would have yelled back at the Spaniard for ordering him around but he just didn't feel like it today. His head was spinning and he honestly appreciated the help of his guest.

"I brought you some soup! Francis said you could eat a little bit but not too much."

"Thanks."  
Arthur tasted the soup and again was surprised. That was his brother's recipe! Scotland had once brought him a book of soup recipes but had added his own personal one on the last page (which is also England's favourite). Where did Antonio …?

"Did you use my recipe book?"  
"Si! I found it in the cupboard. In Spain we mostly have cold soups (not entirely true but Antonio needed an excuse to try out England's recipe) so I didn't know what to make and Francis said it had to be warm so I thought you might have something because it's a cold place here and …"

Arthur distractedly listened to Antonio's ramble. He thought Antonio hated his cooking so why would he bother trying his recipes. Why not call France?

"Is it good?"

Arthur snapped back from his thoughts and looked at Antonio. Again, there was that eager look in his eyes like he was expecting something.

"Not bad."

"Good! I was worried because it was the first time I did this."

"What do you make when you're sick then?"

"I … I don't know. I don't remember ever being sick …"

"Well, that's fortunate."

Arthur had already finished his bowl and was slowly dozing off.

"You have strange recipes" Antonio continued without noticing Arthur's drowsiness.

"What do you mean?"  
"Well, everything you make is … rich and fat. No salad or …"

"We're in a cold country Antonio. Salad doesn't grow here! Well, it didn't in the past … now, it's possible with a greenhouse and stuff. But it's mostly the climate that forces us to eat rich food to keep our bodies warm."

"Si, I understand but it's still strange and unusual for me. Your soups are nice though."

"That recipe came from my brother."

"Really? I chose it because there was a bookmark on it so I thought you liked it."

"I do, it's my favourite."

"Good."  
Antonio's faced seemed to relax but he still didn't smile. He kept staring at Arthur and decided he needed rest. Antonio was about to leave before asking:

"Arthur, do you want me to make you more tea later?"

"Yes please."

"The usual, right?"

Before Arthur could answer, Antonio had left his room with the empty tray.

"_The usual_? What did he mean by that?" Arthur wondered. He shrugged, dismissing it but it still intrigued him how Spain seemed to know his taste so well. He decided that he'd figure it out later and fell asleep.


	3. Accident

**Accident**

_**Time skip of a week – Arthur is mostly cured.**_

Arthur was in his study, catching up on the work he had missed. He was feeling much better but Antonio still hung around at his house and wouldn't let him do anything. Whenever Arthur tried to work or even make himself a drink, Antonio would rush to do it in his place and would force Arthur to sit and do nothing. Arthur was really grateful to Antonio for taking care of him but he was exaggerating too much. Arthur was cured now and Antonio could leave if he wanted so why was he still here? It's not like the Englishman didn't appreciate his guest's attention but … wasn't he a bit overreacting? Even Francis, when he came to visit, said he was fine now. And Francis knows his stuff when it comes to medicine. But Antonio wouldn't hear it and kept treating Arthur like he was dying. Each time Arthur coughed, Antonio panicked. Arthur was really disturbed. Why the bloody hell was the Spaniard acting so strange?

Antonio came back from his shopping and put the groceries in the kitchen before checking on Arthur. He wasn't in his bedroom … Antonio felt a rush of panic grow in him and he called his host loudly as he looked around through every door.

"ARTHUR! ARTHUR! ARTHU …"

"WHAT? What the bloody hell are you screaming for? It's not like I disappeared!" Arthur barked at him as he came out of his study.

Antonio sighed in relief. For a minute, he thought Arthur might have fainted somewhere or maybe his illness would have come back or …

He hugged Arthur. The blond was always surprised and caught off guard each time Antonio hugged him. Why was he worried so much? Arthur thought Antonio hated him or at least didn't like him. His face warmed up as he felt Antonio's grip around him tighten.

"Antonio … I'm fine. Can you let me go now?"

Antonio realised what he was doing (again) and immediately let go of Arthur, his face covered with a deep blush. Arthur eyed him suspiciously. His guest's behaviour ever since he was sick slightly scared Arthur. He wondered why the Spaniard was acting in such a caring way. It wasn't like him. And even more suspicious was that he hadn't smile the whole time he had spent in England. That was seriously disturbing! Antonio always has a stupid grin on his face no matter the circumstances. But not since he came over. Arthur shrugged. He had work to do and Scotland would come in person to check on him if he didn't do it. His brother could get really overprotective at times and if Arthur didn't catch up on his work soon, Scott would think the sickness came back and he would rush over in a nick of time! Not that Arthur minded but it meant that Scott would call Wales who would call Northern Ireland who would then call Ireland and Arthur really wasn't up to dealing with all his siblings at once just after feeling better! He already had Antonio acting all weird, he didn't need more trouble!

Arthur was about to head back to his study but Antonio stopped him. He didn't want Arthur to overwork himself just as he was starting to feel better.

"Don't … You're not completely cured yet."

"I know but I'm able to work a little and I really have too. I can't leave everything to Scott for too long, he'll worry and think I'm dying or something. Plus, he's the type that really can't deal with paperwork. Right now, I don't know how he manages especially with Wales who has a tendency to fall asleep or daydream when he does administrative work. And North is still having a hard time managing her own issues, I can't have her take care of all three of us too. I'm fine, Antonio. I won't overwork but I really do need to do this."

"Why? Why are you overworking yourself for your brothers? Can't they deal with their own countries?"

"They do but when it comes to the UK we work together and … well, I mostly do all the work. It's just not really in their nature to sit around in an office, and patience isn't one of Scotland's qualities. I don't mind anyway. At least, I don't have to take care of their mess."

"But … I don't understand."

"What is there to understand?"  
"I thought you and your brothers didn't get along well."

"… … That's not exactly it. We had our differences and still do but … It's hard to explain. Our relationship is … complicated. We always argue and fight but … we're still united … if that makes sense. We don't hate each other at all but the way we interact might seem that way for an outsider. My siblings are just a bit rough and we fight a lot but … it's like you and Portugal. You fight but you still love each other, right?"

Antonio's face darkened. No, it wasn't like that. At some point, him and his brother had really hated one another. Now they were on peaceful terms but there still remains that coldness between them.

"No. I really hated him before and he hated me. Even now, we're still not as close as we used to be when children."

Arthur nodded understandably.

"I see. I guess it's not the same then. I … never really hated my brothers. And I don't think they hated me. We got pissed at each other but … Look at it this way: Within ourselves we fight but when someone from outside meddles with us, we unite! We love each other in our own way."

Arthur smiled softly as he remembered how embarrassed Scott had seemed when he had worried about him after his return from being Rome's property. Scott always acted tough but Arthur knew he was in fact a big softy with a golden heart. Antonio watched him smile and felt his heart melt. Arthur always looked so mature and responsible compared to himself. But he could also have a more childish expression and he looked so beautiful when his face softened like that. Antonio really, really, really wanted to …

Arthur's eyes widened. Antonio's lips where clasped against his and the Spaniard was holding him close. Arthur was too shocked to react and when Antonio pulled away, he still was confused and was trying to register what had just happened. Antonio's face became redder than his tomatoes as he too realised what he had done. There was a tense silence before Antonio rushed downstairs mumbling something about taking care of the groceries. Arthur was too stunned to move and like a robot he slowly returned to his study, his face bright red. What the hell was that?


	4. Smile for me

**Smile for me**

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! What had he done?! How was he going to explain that to Arthur?! Never matter that! How was he even going to face Arthur?! Oh! Shit!

Antonio banged his head against the kitchen's wall. Lunch was ready and all he needed to do was call Arthur downstairs to eat. But how could he do that after kissing him like he did?! Arthur was probably mad at him! If only he could go back in time! Ah! But Arthur's lips tasted so good! So soft and sweet … No! Stop thinking about this! Now's not the time! Antonio was still banging his head against the wall, ignoring the blood dripping from his bruise as he hit his head, until …

"Antonio?! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Antonio was startled by the sound of an angel's voice. He looked up and saw Arthur in the kitchen's doorway. Arthur had a worried look on his face as he rushed to the Spaniard. He grabbed his friend's head and examined the wound.

"What were you thinking? Are you crazy? You've even injured yourself! Seriously, what is wrong with you? You've been acting all strange ever since you came over!"

Antonio didn't speak a word as Arthur brought over some disinfectant and bandaged his wound.

Neither spoke during lunch, and only when Antonio was about to do the dishes did Arthur stop him and ordered him to go and have a lie down and rest.

"I'm fine." Antonio mumbled but Arthur didn't listen and the same way Antonio had done with him, he carried the Spaniard to his room and in his bed.

"Now, stay there and rest! I'll be back in a tic."

Arthur did come back a few moments later with a cup of warm milk. He handed the cup to Antonio and pressed his hand against the brunet's forehead, checking his temperature. He didn't have any fever despite his burning red face. Arthur gazed in Antonio's eyes making the Spanish blush even more.

"Drink up. It'll get cold." He said softly and with a smile.

Antonio was stunned. Arthur was looking at him with so much care and gentleness. And his smile was dazzling. He drank a sip of the warm milk and felt some honey mixed to it. It was delicious.

"You should rest for the day. I promise I won't work. In fact, I'll be too busy taking care of you to have time to work! I hope you didn't catch my illness. You're really flushed." Arthur said with a concerned look.

Antonio blushed and hid his face in his covers. Arthur patted his head softly before leaving. Antonio felt his pulse race, butterflies in his stomach, and although he didn't have any fever, he felt boiling hot. How much he loved that man! Why was it so hard to confess his feelings? Antonio fell asleep.

When he woke up, Antonio's olive green eyes met bright jade ones. Immediately, Antonio's pulse accelerated and his face warmed up. Arthur was sitting next to him, reading a book. When he noticed Antonio waking up, Arthur smiled and putting down his book, he left the room. Antonio felt a bit sad that Arthur would leave like that without asking him how he felt. He looked over at the book … Arthur had almost finished reading it according to the bookmark's location. Had Arthur stayed by his side the whole time? How long had he slept? But before Antonio could ponder more, Arthur came back with a tray of food. There was a bowl of red soup, two buttered toasts and a glass of water.

"Here. You're probably hungry. You slept an entire day. And you think I'm the one overworking?"

Antonio hadn't realised it but he was starving. He graciously accepted the bowl and tasting it, felt the familiar taste of his country. A pleased sound escaped his lips. Arthur chuckled.

"I thought you might like tomato soup."

"We usually have it cold in Spain. But it's nice warm too." Spain explained, blushing at how considerate Arthur had been.

"I'm glad you like it. Are you feeling better? You really had me scared for a minute there!"

"Sorry."

"Why did you even do that?"

"I was … I was angry …"

"Angry? I hope you don't often get angry if each time you do, you hit your head against a wall!" Arthur joked. "But angry at what?"

"…"

"… Is it because of that kiss?"

Antonio's face grew redder and redder. He couldn't even look at Arthur and instead had his eyes fixed on his bowl.

"Antonio, I'm not mad at you if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm sorry."

Arthur sighed. This was going nowhere. He took the bowl away from his friend's hands and put it on the bedside table. Arthur then leaned closer towards the Spaniard who still wouldn't look at him. Arthur whispered, his emerald eyes locked on the other man's face.

"Antonio, why aren't you looking at me?"

Antonio didn't answer. Arthur was so close, it made him nervous and he felt his lower body parts grow hard. He didn't dare looking because if he did, he might lose all self-control.

"Antonio. Please … smile for me."

Antonio's eyes widened and his head flipped around to stare with surprise at Arthur's concerned face. Arthur's eyes were so beautiful and right now, so full of sadness and … desire?

"Antonio … why don't you smile anymore?"

"Wha …?"

"Ever since you came over to my house, I haven't seen your stupid grin, not even once. Why? I appreciate your help but I'm really worried Antonio. Why won't you smile for me?"

"I … I … I didn't realise …"

Indeed, Antonio had been so worried about Arthur's health that he had lost all his usual cheerfulness. Even his rare smile seemed a bit fake.

Arthur leaned closer and gently kissed the Spaniard. Antonio's eyes widened but he immediately gave into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck.

"Don't ever do that again." Arthur said with a serious face after pulling away. "Don't ever hurt yourself like you did yesterday."

Arthur caressed Antonio's wounded head.

"And don't ever lose your smile. Promise me."

Antonio gazed in his lover's eyes and smiled. He smiled one of his bright, sunny, cheerful smiles. As bright and warm as the sun. Antonio smiled more honestly than ever in his entire life. He was, at the moment, the happiest man on earth. Arthur smiled softly back and leaned in again to kiss his new boyfriend. Antonio smiled and brought the other man closer to him and on the bed. They both kissed passionately and the world stopped moving. In between their kisses, Antonio whispered in Arthur's ear.

"Si. I promise to always smile as long as you love me."

Arthur chuckled and replied softly.

"_Always_? Then make it forever."

It was a very sunny day in England. The most sunny day ever seen in the UK.


End file.
